Jared's Texas Homecoming. Patricia Thayer

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      “No. I need an extra hand now. I just wanted you to know that I can’t pay the kind of money you’re used to.”

      “Let’s not worry about that. I don’t need much right now.” He raised an eyebrow, wondering how she could manage with only Bert. “How large is the Lazy S?”

      “Ten sections now. Landwise I can handle more cattle, but we’re in a drought and it costs a lot for feed. And I had to sell off quite a few head last year….”

      “Sounds like it’s been rough on you and Evan.”

      “That’s what it’s like for most ranchers. Feast or famine.”

      “Why stay in?”

      Dana smiled and his heart tripped in his chest. “Ranching is all I know, and the Lazy S is the only home I’ve ever known. I don’t know if I could handle city life.” Those green eyes rose to meet his. “What about you?”

      He hesitated. He hadn’t been ready for her question. “I’ve lived a lot a places over the last dozen years. Mostly large cities. Working in construction, I haven’t spent much time in the country.”

      “We move at a pretty slow pace here,” she said. “After Las Vegas, think you can handle it?”

      At the moment Jared couldn’t think of anywhere else he wanted to be. “Yeah, I can handle it,” he assured her. “And I’m used to getting an early start. Like in Nevada. It’s wise to start work before the sun gets too hot.”

      Dana checked her watch. “We both should be getting to bed….” Color flamed in her cheeks. “Well…I should leave and let you get some sleep.”

      He nodded, trying to distract himself from the picture she had alluded to. No, he couldn’t think about her that way—about wanting her. “You’re right. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

      “Good night.” Dana turned around and Jared couldn’t ignore the soft sway of her rounded hips. Desire shot through him. He knew the last thing he could do was get involved with Dana. She was off-limits, in more ways than one.

      Jared sat on the bed, unlaced his work boots and pulled them off. Stretching out on the mattress, he stared up at the wooden slats in the ceiling. What had possessed him to take the job? He had no business being here. Well, what business he had wouldn’t take more than an hour. He needed to forget what Marsh told him about their mother and just get the hell out of Dodge.

      Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the crumpled letter from Jack Randell. Hell, why couldn’t he just let it go? The last thing he wanted to do was find out he didn’t fit in somewhere else. He doubted the three Randell brothers wanted a bastard brother showing up.

      But, damn, he had to know where he belonged.

      Dana walked through the back door of the house. She couldn’t believe she had flirted with Jared Trager. And worse, she knew better. There was danger written all over the man, from his slow, easy saunter to his sexy grin. Besides, he had a home in Las Vegas. And probably a woman waiting for him.

      As her father used to say, drifters come and go as fast as the seasons. If only she’d heeded those words when she’d met Marshall Hastings.

      At twenty-three, Dana had had yet to experience love…until she’d met Marsh. A good-looking stranger who had come to the ranch, asking for directions. He gave her the attention she craved, but in the end he took off. Marsh hadn’t cared that he’d taken her innocence. But he’d left her a gift. Evan. Because of her son she would never regret what had happened between them.

      Now, at twenty-eight, Dana had given up on finding what her parents had. Although their time together had been short, Kathryn and Drew Shayne had truly loved each other. But their daughter would never risk her heart again. Dana never wanted to feel that kind of pain for the second time.

      If she ever got married, she was definitely going to play it safe. Look for a nice, safe guy…like Hal Parks. The local deputy sheriff was nice enough, not bad-looking, either. She’d known him all her life. He still came around to the ranch and it was easy to see that, with some encouragement, the shy deputy might ask her out. Was that what she wanted?

      Maybe. She had Evan to think about. He was getting older, and he needed a father figure. Hal liked kids, even coached Little League.

      “If there were just a few sparks,” she murmured, wishing she could get up some enthusiasm.

      A warm shiver slid down her spine as her attention turned to her new ranch hand. Jared Trager sent off sparks with just a look from those bedroom eyes. What would his touch be like?

      “Stop it,” she chided herself, shutting off lights as she walked through the quiet house. On the stairs, not wanting to wake Evan, Dana skipped the fifth step to avoid the squeaky loose board.

      Once in her bedroom, she closed the door and turned on the lamp on the night table. A soft glow illuminated the room she’d slept in all her life. It was still painted a light pink, but she had exchanged the twin bed for a double. After her father’s death, she hadn’t seen any reason to move into the master suite.

      She went to the window and glanced down at the barn. Everything looked peaceful. Just the way she liked it. But for how long? How long could she hold on? How long would this ranch belong to a Shayne? The place was mortgaged and the payment was due soon.

      A mortgage that her father had taken out when his only child had developed complications in her pregnancy and had delivered his grandson, Evan Andrew, six weeks early. At less than four pounds, her infant son had had to remain in the hospital for weeks. That had cost money, a lot of money.

      When she’d told him of her pregnancy, not once had her father complained or lectured her. He’d never judged her when she said that her baby’s father was not in the picture. And from the day she’d brought Evan home from the hospital, he’d loved the boy.

      Now, it was just her and Evan. And as a legacy to her father and her son, she couldn’t lose the Lazy S. She might not know what the future of the ranch would be, but she wasn’t going to give up easily. She would do whatever it took.

      The next morning, Dana was putting breakfast on the table when Bert walked in the back door, Jared behind him. His chambray shirt and jeans looked as if they’d already seen plenty of work and it was only 7:00 a.m. If Bert had had anything to do about it, they’d been up well before the sun.

      “I hope you’re hungry,” Dana said as she tore her gaze away from her good-looking new employee. “Have a seat.”

      “Yeah, Mom made biscuits and her special gravy,” Evan said from his chair at the kitchen table.

      Bert hung his hat by the door. Jared also placed a hat on the hook next to the foreman’s. She recognized the familiar battered straw that always hung in the barn. So her new ranch hand didn’t even own a cowboy hat.

      “Is it someone’s birthday?” Bert asked as he walked to the table.

      “I just felt like making biscuits and gravy,” Dana replied, a little too quickly. “Of course, I’m not going to force you to eat them.”

      Bert grinned as he raised his arthritic СКАЧАТЬ